"Drownings!? How frightening. It's a lucky thing we didn't let that boatman in Isarn con us!" Then she adds, almost as if it's an after thought, "I found it strange not to have it in the capital as well, but I suppose the Gardeners wanted to host their soiree closer to home. That grotesque slab of a building is theirs, isn't it?"
It's risky to be so flippant about such dangerous people, but it is an important part of the act. Someone born so far from Galt should be ignorant of the fear these people live with every day. And if the cartographer's ignorance is genuine, then she is missing a very important piece of the puzzle she seems to be working on.
"Oh, but I'm being so rude. I haven't even introduced myself. You may call me Lorespeaker Ozinichi. And your name, Miss...?"
"Ah, goodness. I suppose you're right, Lorespeaker, we should have come earlier. But thank you so greatly for any advice you're still willing to offer, I promise we won't take up too much of your time."
Aphotos tries to help steer the conversation along. "Hm, now that you mention it, it is a bit unusual to hold such an event here rather than the capital. I wonder if they did so to save time on setting things up. But I wonder how much they would have to bring out here for that. This town is charming but certainly not as ripe with spaces and resources as the capital would be."
Then he steps back and feigns embarrassment. "Oh goodness. Forgive me for interrupting, your introductions. We tend to find ourselves on a lot of trade routes in our travels so I do tend to get thinking about how things move about from place to place. I'm sure as a cartographer you must understand. I presume with your knowledge of the land you'd likewise be interested in where the Gardeners brought in all their supplies for the grand party from." Perhaps he is being a bit too obvious in his statements but he hopes to put the idea of the Blade's movements in her mind to share with them.
He also tries to take a look over at the cartographer and see if he can gain any insight about her disposition towards this conversation.
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"Oh, are you interested in the Gray Gardeners? They are fascinating." You have her full attention now. "My name is Tristel Liendi and I'm a historian and cartographer--as you can probably see."
The halfling points to a blocky location on the map of Litran. “Have you been to Grange Market today? The Gray Gardeners are moving the final blades around,” she says. “But there’s something strange about where they’re moving them. Like here in Litran. They just brought in Sharp-Tooth Hana from Tregan and set her up in Grange Market instead of Crownless Square, where executions are normally held. But I just heard they’ve had Carmine Nell moved from near the Minaret back to Tregan, which is further away. There’s some pattern here, but I can’t see it.”
Aphotos looks at her and feigns a large bout of dramatic shock. "Well I do love a good bout of gossip. I assume those are two other of the blades? Why are they advertising Silent Lenore then if they're moving two other blades around? I'm very curious but I wouldn't know if I have any insight on that myself. What say you?"
"Oh, yes! All of the final blades have, eh, evocative names. The Gray Gardeners are moving final blades around the nation, stationing them in the densest population centers. But why?" Tristel speaks about the macabre subject with infectious enthusiasm.
Just as the halfling makes this pronouncement, there is a loud knock at the door, followed immediately by the sound of splintering as the door is kicked in! A trio of threatening figures slinks into the shop: two wear the masks of Gray Gardeners, but the third is a hulking aberration covered in hundreds of bloodshot eyes.
https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1J-7Lodt_zv2IjFpAXE9hL4o6SGnOKZnPQae EPLLKoDs/edit#slide=id.g14747d215d4_0_0
~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Chance
Aphotos
Red
Funmi
Fiorré
Blue
Yellow
Kuthek
Aphotos turns and lets out a mighty yell! "You should learn not to interrupt people when they're talking!"
Then he rushes in from around the corner at the masked one nearest to him and tries to stage a surprise attack!
Then he tries to give Yellow the stink eye for being rude and interrupting the conversation as well.
Aphotos doesn't manage to startle blue, but his sneak attack skewers the Gardener.
The burst of noise reverberates over all three intruders.
The many-eyed creature reaches past his ally to smack Aphotos.
for
for
for
The hits disorient Aphotos.
~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red (-10)
Funmi
Fiorré
Blue (-70, enfeebled 1, stunned 1, deafened)
Yellow (-10)
Kuthek
At the sound of stomping footsteps and splintering wood, Funmi instinctively draws her hood up over her head. "Miss Liendi, I believe you should hide now. Under a table perhaps," she whispers. Then she turns to face the intruders.
"I think you can be a bit more fearsome than that my friend." She raises a hand towards Aphotos, and to their enemies, his countenance seems to shift. His mouth grows wider and reveals row after row of razor sharp teeth, their fears manifest behind his eyes.
"And as for you..." She sweeps her hand with a flourish and her bow appears in hand, firing on (yellow) in an instant.
Fiorré has been in her own little world almost since the group left the late judge’s residence. Partially the aftereffects of emotion, not to mention lying to the guards—genius though her performance was—and partly the wanderwise at work. Maps are so boring anyway, at least now that she has the freedom to go where she will. Who’d want to look at a bunch of lines on paper when they could go see those places for themselves? And so Miss Wintrelle has been letting her mind wander, particularly to the upcoming gala.
But there is nothing like the sweet promise of bloodspill to focus the mind. As the splintering crack resounds through the shop, Fiorré shakes herself from her wanderwise reverie. “Aye, Miss Liendi, down you go. You shouldn’t see what’s to come next.” By way of punctuation, the beastblood girl draws her blade with an auroral flourish.
“Pardon me, Sir Eventide; Miss Ozinichi.” Fiorré’s voice is perfectly measured and polite, belying the tensing of her muscles. Then, rather than her customary blistering sprint, she all but dances out from between the two, a swaying sword-dance that lands her right in front of the nearest foe.
Unfortunately, her enchanting little trick doesn’t seem to make much impact on the dour Gardener. Fiorré pouts rather theatrically at her target. “What a terrible disappointment you are.” Then she is in motion again, her sword-dance carrying her right into the center of the trio of foes.
Fiorré grins to herself as the brutes’ eyes begin following her movements, a telltale sign of the entrancement in which she delights. Splendid. On the prowl, then. As she comes to a rest, Snowfall flicks out at Aphotos’s prey with lightning speed.
for (against Blue, in case it wasn't clear)
The halfling dives beneath her map table, gaining cover from the intruders.
Funmi's arrow misses its mark, but Fiorré slinks around the foes and slices at blue.
The blue assassin looks horrified at the sight of Aphotos and attempts to distract the rogue before striking out.
for and
The Gardener's weakened condition saves Aphotos from a hit!
Meanwhile, the other assassin strikes out at the lithe swashbuckler.
for and
for and
for and
~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red (-10)
Funmi
Fiorré (-59)
Blue (-97, enfeebled 1, deafened)
Yellow (-10)
Kuthek
~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Kuthek is moving even before the boot is all the way through the door, spinning in while loosing the shining chain from its clasp. He weaves between companions and furniture, low to the ground, portions of him disappearing for a split second as they pass through shadow.
A spiked chain rockets out from behind the bookshelf to Aphotos's left, followed immediately by the sprinting sneakpriest, bearing down on the nearest Gray Gardener.
His attention fixes on the many-eyed creature accompanying the masked figures.
"No one is more vigilant than the tyrant, for the hatred they stir is omnipresent and hungry. A thousand possible knives angle toward them. Every meal a possible poison. So ensnared by the very fear they create.
The dry words slither through the air, unsettling and inexorable.
Your litany rails against the sin of sloth, interfering with the target's ability to react. The target must attempt a Will save. A particularly slothful creature, such as a sloth demon, uses the outcome one degree of success worse than the result of its saving throw. The target becomes temporarily immune to all of your litanies for 1 minute.
Critical Success The target is unaffected.
Success The target can't use reactions.
Failure The target can't use reactions and is slowed 1.
Critical Failure The target can't use reactions and is slowed 2.
The red creature snickers at Kuthek's threat; it knows of many tyrants, but trusts in its own abilities.
The blue assassin is looking rather ragged. Kuthek's spike chain rips into him and Aphotos stabs him in the back.
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red (-10)
Funmi
Fiorré (-59)
Blue (-173, enfeebled 1, deafened, flat-footed)
Yellow (-10)
Kuthek
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Aphotos turns to Chance and nods solemnly as his image fades away, covered by the illusory shield of Invisibility.
He makes a hidden strike at Blue!
Then he takes the chance to step over Blue's corpse and get up next to the horrible many-eyed creature.
"I wish I could say this is the most disgusting monster I've ever seen but this is just about as many eyes as most things at the bottom of the sea depths have..."
Aphotos disappears and then slices twice at the assassin. The intruder is reeling on his feet, but still up!
The red creature locks many of its eyes on Funmi and she feels it trying to page through her memories.
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red (-10)
Funmi
Fiorré (-59)
Blue (-247, enfeebled 1, deafened, flat-footed)
Yellow (-10)
Kuthek
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As the creature stares her down, Funmi can feel it trying to probe her thoughts, but the spinning stone around her head hums with energy and deflects the mental intrusion. "It's not polite to pry into another's thoughts," she says, electricity crackling around her fingertips. A bolt of electricity flies from her hand, coursing through the two assassins and into the monster.
Before the light of the spell fades, another arrow flies through the air, this time empowered with magic.
Between the coppery reek of blood on the air and the scarletsong beginning to thunder in Fiorré’s ears, the assassin’s blade barely even stings as it tears into her side. A savage grin spreads across the beastblood girl’s face. Someone needs a spanking. Turning to her assailant, Fiorré flashes him a beguiling smile, Snowfall beginning to whirl with blistering speed.
Executing a daring spin, her blade flashing around her in a shimmering sphere, Fiorré finally comes to a stop... with the razor edge of Snowfall pressed against the side of the assassin’s throat, right against the carotid artery. The beastblood girl gives him a saucy wink. “Got you.”
Then, with a twitch of her arm, Fiorré saws the blade across the assassin’s neck.
Fiorré draws a deep breath, eyes widening, only dimly aware that she is smiling delightedly as blood begins to spurt and gush. But the fight is far from over. Taking a moment to let the gory deed sink in, the Iobarian girl reorients her auroral blade into a defensive grip. Then she begins to sway and twirl, Snowfall playing the part of dance partner in her entrancing display.
But Fiorré isn’t yet done playing with her prey. As she sways, Snowfall lashes out, eager yet to spill the blood of the wounded.
With the crackling of electricity, blue crumples to the ground in a smoking pile. The bolt continues through the other foes. Funmi's arrow catches the remaining assassin in the aftermath.
Fiorré slices Snowfall across the throat of her foe, unleashing a crimson spray and she frolics through the crimson rain that spatters the map shop. The enemy can't seem to look away, perhaps knowing he sees his death.
Lifeblood dripping, the assassin attacks Fiorré. His practiced knifework attempts to work around her defenses.
for and
for and
Somehow more blood makes its way into the air as two slices penetrate her guard.
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red (-71)
Funmi
Fiorré (-116)
Blue
Yellow (-117, 5d6 persistent, fascinated with Fiorré)
Kuthek
Attempt to trip Red, athletics vs reflex dc
Skitter behind yellow to flank with Fiorré
Attack Yellow:
-
-
Kuthek protects Fiorré, but his attacks fall short.
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red (-71)
Funmi
Fiorré (-73)
Blue
Yellow (-117, 5d6 persistent, fascinated with Fiorré)
Kuthek
Aphotos tries to push past his allies and roll under the big gross creature's legs and find an opening to start damaging it.
The usually light on his feet young Azarketi is slightly disoriented by not being able to see his own legs moving but eventually figures it out. He then tries to take advantage of catching the creature unawares and begin tearing it apart.
Fiorré's vitality is restored, and Chance's sword rips into the many-eyed creature, leaving it off-balance.
In a tight spot, the creature casts a spell, provoking an attack from the vigilant Kuthek.
for
The attack hits, but the creature still finishes it's casting.
It vanishes!
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red (-159)
Funmi
Fiorré
Yellow (-117, 5d6 persistent, fascinated with Fiorré)
Kuthek
Funmi is all too familiar with the creature's spell. It's one she's cast a hundred times herself, which means she knows all too well how disorienting it is to one's enemies. But she also knows its drawbacks. She looks at the ground where the creature had laid, searching for telltale signs of movement.
"Don't trust your senses! The beast is still there, just hidden. Strike!"
Aphotos stabs the creature in the back just before it disappears!
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red (-220, hidden)
Funmi
Fiorré
Yellow (-117, 5d6 persistent, fascinated with Fiorré)
Kuthek
Invisibility. No fair! Noijitan monster! If ‘tis not one thing, sure ‘tis another. Fiorré pouts... then blushes faintly at her spicy language, even if Funmi (probably) can’t read her thoughts (right now). The beastblood girl sniffs at the air, trying to pick out the scent of bizarre entity under the rich coppery perfume of bloodshed. When she thinks she has it, she doesn’t even hesitate, whipping her blade through the space her teacher indicated with the same gory intent.
Fiorré feels her blade meet resistance and saws it back just as before, adding an extra saw or two just to make the point about the invisibility. Then she is once again in motion, keeping the assassin’s gaze on her with a rolling sway of her hips. Tease, Sibéal playfully jibes, as if she’s not in the habit of far more sultry tricks.
The Iobarian girl’s eyes shimmer in the sunlight spilling into the room as she watches the assassin follow her every move. ‘Tis like witchcraft, with the way boys are. She was going to take another piece out of him with Snowfall, but now...
Instead, Fiorré lashes out nonchalantly at the invisible entity, barely even looking; she’d much rather keep her little fishy hooked.
Then... she should be defending herself, but where’s the fun in that? Instead Fiorré reaches out with her free hand, lightly brushing the assassin’s cheek just above the mask as she gazes into his eyes, summoning all the mystique she can muster. “Perhaps you’d like to give yourself up to me?” the Iobarian girl playfully whispers in her breathy voice, tugging the mask down just a little as she leans in. “Sure you’d rather be a corpse than a captive? My captive?”
The unmasked assassin's eyes have a fanatical glow as they stare at the dancing Iobarian. He brings his kukri to his lips for a moment, then after a quick kiss he wipes it across the mouth of a pouch at his belt. He sways slightly to Fiorré's movements, but his grip seems strong enough. He slashes the blade twice.
for
for
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red
Funmi
Fiorré (-13)
Yellow (-117, 5d6 persistent, fascinated with Fiorré)
Kuthek
Fiorré shrugs nonchalantly, unperturbed by the strike (though the kiss of the blade did elicit a little giggle). “Ah, ‘tis a shame to see a lad throw his life away for nothing. Still, if you insist...” The Iobarian girl holds out a fist with thumb extended to the side, turning it downward like a Chelish princess at a gladiatorial arena, and grins hungrily at the assassin. “Corpse.”
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The assassin continues to bleed, in response.
Always adds some mystery to the dance of violence.
Kuthek pays careful attention to where and how Fiorré strikes the unseen many-eyed foe. The spiked chain twirls, a fraction of a moment from lashing out to join the wilding-girl’s blade, seeking a partners’ performance in flashing steel and blossoming scarlet.
Instead, scarlet blossoms on the cartographer’s floor. A bleeding heap of eyes and red robes materializes.
”Well done, lass!” crows Kuthek, whose chain instead seeks the sole survivor.
One for AoO (if things don’t look too dangerous, which they don’t atm)
One for:
Liberating Step [reaction] Trigger An enemy damages, Grabs, or Grapples your ally, and both are within 15 feet of you; Effect You free an ally from restraint. If the trigger was an ally taking damage, the ally gains resistance to all damage against the triggering damage equal to 2 + your level. The ally can attempt to break free of effects grabbing, restraining, immobilizing, or paralyzing them. They either attempt a new save against one such effect that allows a save, or attempt to Escape from one effect as a free action. If they can move, the ally can Step as a free action, even if they didn’t need to escape. If the triggering enemy was using any effects to make your ally grabbed, restrained, immobilized, or paralyzed when you used Liberating Step, that enemy takes persistent good damage equal to your Charisma modifier. If the ally doesn’t attempt to break free of an effect, you and all allies within 15 feet can Step, in addition to the triggering ally.
Kuthek's chain slashing deeply into the assassin twice, then he puts it onto the ground with a whirl of chain that takes the killer's legs out from beneath him.
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Red
Funmi
Fiorré (-13)
Yellow (-207, 5d6 persistent, prone)
Kuthek
With Red in heap of blood coming out of an invisible form, Aphotos shrugs and quickly squeezes around the unseen creature back over to the man with Yellow tassels.
He speaks in a whisper to Yellow alone, "Well if you're so intent on dying by our hands, perhaps I'll just have to give you the honor of doing so..."
Somehow he's still alive! But boy, he's not looking great.
"Cough...you'll pay for your meddling!"
~+~Combat Round 2~+~
Chance
Aphotos (-30)
Funmi
Fiorré (-13)
Yellow (-241, 5d6 persistent, prone)
Kuthek
Map
Before Funmi begins casting any spells, Fiorré daintily holds up a hand. “Miss Ozinichi, please,” she says, flashing a smile her teacher’s way, “permit me to dispatch this base cutthroat for you.” Then... the Iobarian girl erupts into motion, her blade flashing again and again in a storm of auroral trails. Her first is another elegant arterial razor, but the rest are simple slashes to the zealous assassin’s body and face.
As the assassin bleeds his last, Fiorré turns back to Funmi, offering her teacher a tentative smile and a small bow. “I, um... hope it was not too unseemly for you, Miss Ozinichi.” The beastblood girl knows her teacher has witnessed far bloodier deeds done by her hand—or, more frequently, paw—though this somehow does little to assuage her anxiety. For a moment it seems as though she is going to say more to the elder Magaambyan; instead the young woman glances shyly aside.
Instead Fiorré pads over to Kuthek, folding her hands in front of her and looking hopefully up at the avuncular fetchling. “So, Sir Eventide,” the beastblood girl murmurs, her eyes aglow in the light spilling through the shattered door, “what think you of my technique? ‘Tis a wee bit sanguine, I grant, but...” Fiorré gestures vaguely at Kuthek, as if to say, Surely you, sir, will understand.
"You did what needed to be done," Funmi said, lowering her bow. "Drag the bodies inside quickly, and shut what's left of the door. We have only moments to decide our next move. If we're lucky, the crowds will have scattered to avoid the Gardeners."
She reached her hand down to the cartographer and helped her to her feet. "Clearly you've learned something they don't want you to know. Gather whatever maps you can, and anything else you need. Assume your home is no longer safe. We'll try to hide you the best we can."
After setting Tristel to work, Funmi went back to the others and continued in lower tones. "We need to keep her safe, but I'm apprehensive about taking her to the safehouse. There's already one fox in our hen house. Any ideas?"
Aphotos, still in his Invisible state for a good half a minute more, works to pull the massive bleeding corpse back into the doorway, and shuts the door, then also flips over a desk and slides it in front of the doorway to block any other possible infiltrators.
"For the time being we could bring her to the tea house, we'll at least look somewhat inconspicuous for a bunch of citizens to be enjoying a nice tea break. From there we can regroup, and it'll give us time to think about the safest place for her. We should act fast, before anyone else shows shows up poking around..."
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The halfling woman crawls out from under the desk and scrambles to find a bag and several map cases. As she's quickly rolling maps up, she pauses on one that shows a map of the whole country.
"I wish I had more time to investigate this, but it's obviously too dangerous. Oh, why did I mention the movement of the final blades to my aunt?! She's the town's biggest gossip. And that grocer didn't need to know either. Or that delivery boy! He did look a little shady."
It's evident that Tristel was not very circumspect about her research.
"I just found it so interesting that, within the week, a significant portion of the population will be within a mile of at least one of the blades."
She finishes packing relatively quickly and surveys the mess of corpses in her store. "Well, no time to clean up, I suppose. I'm sure someone will tell the landlord in a few days."
She's willing to follow you lead, as you just saved her life.
The assassins were carrying +2 striking hand crossbows, +2 striking kukris, and 3 doses of shadow essence poison.
You make it to the tea shop without any problem. Kuthek can feel the invisible halfling clinging to his cloak. If there are more Gray Gardeners around, they are staying out of sight.
Back in the relative safety of the tea shop's hidden room, Funmi fills in Nevarmo about the relevant information. She helps Tristel lay out the maps again so that they can finish the conversation that was interrupted by the attack.
"I had assumed the masque was a trap from the beginning, but I was under the impression that the Gardeners merely wanted to eliminate the influential and powerful individuals who could pose a threat to them. But this new information is concerning. Placing the Final Blades in such a particular formation leads me to believe they plan on performing some manner of ritual that will harm many civilians as well."
She pauses briefly as she runs through several mental simulations about what the Gardeners could possibly hope to accomplish, but without more information, there's just no way to know for sure. And at this point, speculation isn't going to do them any good.
"One of the simplest principles of warfare is that if your enemy desires something, you do not let them have it. We know the locations of some Blades at least. Capturing even one would likely set back their plans, at least a little. And I believe the sooner we act, the better."
Fiorré remains quiet for much of the journey back. Her clothing returns to its immaculate state and she’s wiped away most of the blood, but she still seems somewhat shaken by the experience. Back at the apothecary, she busies herself with helping set places and pour tea—Perhaps ‘twould serve you better to don again the maid’s dress, Sibéal playfully taunts, and Fiorré momentarily pouts before smiling to herself—but Funmi’s words shake the beastblood girl out of wanderwise mid-pour.
“A ritual,” Fiorré repeats as she sets down the teapot, a chill running down her spine and unease painting her pretty face. “Sure ‘tis not for the health and good cheer of the citizens, either, knowing these Gardeners.” She ponders what she knows of the final blades, a line of thought which fails to rekindle her optimism. “Saints preserve us. D’you think they mean to... to capture souls en masse? Or... something worse?”
Funmi’s mention of capturing a final blade, on the other hand, puts a tentative smile back on Fiorré’s face. “Aye, now there’s a grand fine plan. Fight or trick our way in, snatch the thing, and have it away with all haste.” Her hand drops to rest on the pommel of her blade... and then the beastblood girl hesitates, surreptitiously glancing around at the others with anxiety in her eyes. No-one had said anything about the way she’d bled that man and then took him to pieces, but...
Taking a deep breath, Fiorré tries to banish the old fear, the fear of her deeds—and, perhaps more so, of others’ judgment for such deeds—that had haunted her all the way from Iobaria. She’d just have to be a wee bit more careful in future. Keep herself under control. Couldn’t be so hard as all that... after all, normal folk went weeks, at the very least, between each savage bloodletting. Tapping a finger against her lips thoughtfully, the beastblood girl glances around at the others again. “I’m fair in favor of stealing one of their bloody blades. What say you all?”